


Ravenstag

by nerdyostrich



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Blood, Creepy, Gore, Hypnosis, M/M, a whole lot of blood, also eye violence, lots of eye thingies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-05
Updated: 2013-06-05
Packaged: 2017-12-14 02:20:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/831593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdyostrich/pseuds/nerdyostrich
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Ravenstag is always watching Will.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ravenstag

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this prompt:  
> Dark forest, hannigram, Will' s trippy dreams brought to life under hypnosis, blood blOOD bLoOd  
> I loved that prompt and I just went with it ^^

“Listen to my voice, Will. I will count down from ten to one. You will see things and you will tell me what you see. When I clap my hands like this:”

A clap like thunder near his ear.

“You will wake up. Let’s begin. Remember, deep breaths and focus. Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five.”

Will doesn’t hear the last few numbers. Led by the smooth velvet of Hannibal’s voice, Will stands up in a forest. The forest is lighter somehow, more like autumn, than he is used to, but he knows that  _it_ is lurking there somewhere.  _It_  is always watching, ready to torment him with its every step. But for now, he is safe. He walks deeper into the light forest, relishing the feel of the crisp air in his lungs.

_“What do you see?”_

_“I see a forest in autumn. It’s not here.”_

The thin orange leaves glitter in the sunlight, making the forest look like it is on fire, flames consuming every tree. Then, when Will feels heat on his skin, he realizes that it is real. The trees are burning and inside the flames, staring at him with dark eyes crying blood, is the ravenstag. It has the shape of a stag with massive dark horns, but its coat is made of feathers of a raven. It’s always watching him with dark eyes, dried blood and fresh blood around them, dripping to the ground. 

_“It has come. The forest is on fire and it’s staring at me. Its eyes study me as it cries tears of blood.”_

_“Continue, Will.”_

As he runs from the ravenstag, the fire slowly stops and the forest is once again empty, but now dark. The darkness is tangible around him, the bark of the trees around him is damp and the ground trembling beneath him. Will knows that if he were to touch the tree trunks, his fingers would stick to the bark, stuck in the old and sticky blood of a girl with her face cut open. Her teeth would be showing, soaked in blood, and the flesh would be jagged and not smoothly cut. Blood would be in her throat, making it so that if she were alive, she’d choke to death on her own blood. Death by what keeps her alive. It’s not a foreign concept to Will. He does not touch the trees.

_“I don’t touch the trees. The trees are them, the people that I have failed to save.”_

_“Walk on, Will.”_

When Will reaches the swamp, filled with thick blood and reeking body parts, the ravenstag is there again. It’s standing on the other side of the swamp, taunting him with its empty eyes as reality itself almost seems to shift around it. Then Abigail, the girl who has become like a daughter to him, is standing next to the ravenstag, petting it gently with one hand. Her hand is getting soaked in blood, seeping into her clothes and staining her skin. Will doesn’t want it to stain her, doesn’t want her to be tainted by this life. And so he struggles across the swamp, legs barely moving in the thick blood, so dark that it is almost black. Inside the dark blood are body parts. A head, an arm, a foot; it’s all there. The horrid stench is overwhelming, sickly sweet and humid, sticking on his skin and drenching his clothes in its poison.

He manages to get across, Abigail completely soaked in blood now, her eyes vacant as she stares at the ravenstag. The ravenstag is staring at Will, as it always is. Up close, Will can see that there are scratch marks all around its eyes, like someone had tried to scratch them out but failed miserably. Yet Will can’t bring himself to care at the moment. He gently strokes Abigail’s hair, hushes her as he kisses her blood-stained forehead.

“It’s going to be okay now, Abigail.” Will says as the ravenstag wills a dagger into his hand and makes him cut Abigail’s throat.

Abigail gurgles, drowning in her own blood that is flowing freely out of the cut on her neck. Will tries his best to stop the bleeding, pressing his hands to the cut, pressing his shirt to it, but nothing works. The ravenstag’s eyes burn on his back.

_“I killed her. I killed her, no, no, no, but it made me. It made me kill her!”_

_A clap of thunder._

Will is sweating when he jolts awake in Hannibal’s office, clothes sticking to his body as he breathes heavily. Beside him is Hannibal, regarding him with soft eyes.

“Are you alright?” Hannibal asks, though Will is certain that he knows that it’s a useless question.

“I’m perfectly fine.” Will says, voice hoarse with screaming.

And it is then that Hannibal sits down next to Will on the divan, pulling him close. Will’s head is resting on Hannibal’s shoulders as Hannibal’s arms are firmly wrapped around him, one hand in Will’s hair. Hannibal whispers soft, comforting words in Will’s ear and Will can’t help but to grip Hannibal’s well-tailored suit tightly. It’s all the he can do, holding onto his paddle like it’s all that he has left. Perhaps Hannibal  _is_  all that he has left. Then Will remembers the ravenstag and knows that he is wrong. He will never be truly alone, whether he wants to be or not. He will always have his taunting ravenstag with disfigured eyes.


End file.
